“We’re only strong when we have each other.”
- William Klasko
“So… you’re here to stay?” Kenny said.
“Yes,” said Brendan. They were all gathered in Todd and Fenn’s living room after the funeral of Fenn’s grandmother. Dylan had been fifteen then, and on punishment.
“Why?”
“Because this is home.” Brendan spoke as if this was obvious. “Because I can work normal hours instead of losing myself. Because everyone I love is here.
“Because you are here, Kenneth,” he touched the red haired man’s arm. “Because I did betray you and leave you in the lurch and… I really can’t do this without you. All I am is shit without you. I forgot that. So now I’m back.”
Kenny looked truly worked up. He clinched his jaws and shook his head.
“I got something going on right now. I don’t know if you realized that.”
Brendan looked over to Chad, who was talking to Bryant, and said, “I think he’ll understand.”
Kenny didn’t say anything for a while. When he finally did, it was, “Goddamnit, Brendan.”
“You don’t want to melt to me right now, it’s okay. I’ll give it time. As much time as you need. But,” Brendan said as he was walking off, “you gotta remember, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Bren!”
“Yes?” Bren turned around with a mischievous look on his face.
“Call me tonight.”
“Alright,” Brendan said, smiling triumphantly.
“Bastard,” Kenny added.
Dena Reardon Affren came out into her living room that was lit only by the blue of the television. Brendan was on the couch in cargo pants and a tee shirt. When she yawned he yawned, and they sat together on the sofa.
“Couldn’t sleep?” she said.
“Didn’t want to.”
“I thought you’d stay with Kenny tonight.”
“I thought that was jumping the gun. You can’t just switch men like that. Let him sleep alone a few nights. Invite me when he wants to.”
“How long do you think that’ll be?”
“You trying to throw me out?’
Dena hit him with a pillow.
“You know me better than that, Bren. If I wanted you out, I’d say get the fuck out.”
“Yes,” Brendan reflected. “You would.
“Well, with me and Kenny being me and Kenny, I suspect—”
Brendan stopped, making a strange face.
“Hold on! My ass is ringing.”
He got up, pulling his phone from his back pocket.
“Uh… it’s Kenny.”
“Answer it.”
He did. The conversation was short, full of “ums” and “yeahs”. When it was over Dena looked up at Brendan:
“And…”
Bren grinned. “Well, it seems like he’ll be ready tomorrow night.”
“He’s got it bad for you, boy.”
Brendan sat back down with a mild smile and, after texting him, said, “We’ve got it bad for each other. Now shush and let’s watch the movie.”
“What is it?”
“It’s one Paul did on IFC.”
“Well,” Dena said. She folded her legs under her on the sofa.
After a while she said, “You and me and a Paul Anderson movie. That’s how all this shit started.”
“Is it?” Brendan said, “I don’t recall.”
“I do,” Dena said. “I recall everything.”
On the screen Paul was saying:
“It doesn’t really matter what I say, or what I do. I can’t prove anything to you. Look, this is who I am, and this is who I’m going to be. I can’t stop it!”
“We need some popcorn,” Dena said, getting up.
“Agreed,” Brendan told her.
“With extra butter?”
“Or not at all.”
“Right,” Dena said, rising. “I’ll be right back.”
“I love you, Dena,” Brendan said. “Sometimes I forget how much. I’m so glad we broke up, and I came out. I love you more than I ever did.”
“Oh, Brendan Miller,” Dena said, heading to the kitchen, “I really like you too.”
Brendan chuckled because he knew that was all he was going to get, and from Dena Affren, that was more than enough.
The whole house was asleep when Brendan went out walking through town. Only now, at twelve o clock in Rossford was he aware of how different this was from Chicago where he would never consider walking at night. He went down to Overton Street and entered the Quicky Mart with its harsh fluorescent light the smell of cold cut sub sandwiches in its refrigerators and the security guard.
“Brendan!” Sheridan had just finished paying for a Coke, and he was standing there with a backwards cap on and a plaid shirt, and Brendan smiled at him, but didn’t speak.
“What’s up?” Sheridan said again, the boy waving his hand slowly in Brendan’s face, half in mockery, but only half.
“Nothing,” Brendan shook his head. “I was just walking.”
“Where are you staying?”
“Dena’s. I could sleep. I came to get something to drink.” Then he said, “I wanted to get something to drink for real, but I don’t want to drink by myself.”
“Howabout this?” Sheridan pointed outside. “I drove, and if you will be so kind as to pay, then we can get something to drink, and I will be glad to drink with you.”
Again Brendan just seemed to be looking at him, and Sheridan said, “I’m not a kid, Brendan.”
“I know you’re not,” Brendan said. Then he smiled. “Maybe I don’t know that. But…” he shrugged. “Let’s go.”
Sheridan was gagging on a cigarette and Brendan laughed. “I told you you couldn’t handle it.”
“I didn’t know you smoked,” Sheridan said, looking at Bren/
“I don’t. Not often. But tonight.”
He passed the bottle to Sheridan and Sheridan took a swig from the paper bag saying, “We look so homeless.”
“Speak for yourself,” Brendan still had on his shirt and tie and Sheridan nodded. “You’re right. You look good.”
“I know,” Brendan said, with more confidence than he felt.
“You always look so fucking good,” Sheridan said.
Neither one of them was so drunk that Brendan didn’t raise an eyebrow.
“I’m sorry,” Sheridan said in that insistent tone that meant he was not sorry, “but you’ve looked good to me since I was… shit… a little kid. You just look so good.”
Brendan didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say and Sheridan added, “And maybe I’m being bold, but if I was Kenny I wouldn’t have a hard time following to Chicago.”
“Don’t you have someone right now?” Brendan said.
Sheridan looked very old right now, and Brendan didn’t know what he meant when he thought that. His eyes were very blue.
“I don’t know what I have,” he said. Then: “Can I kiss you?”
“Huh?”
Sheridan took a quick swig from the bottle and then pressed his mouth to Brendan’s, and for a moment, Brendan protested. He was about to get back with Kenny, right? But Sheridan was holding his hands down and pressing his mouth against him, thrusting his tongue into him, and he had never really paid attention to Sheridan. It was strange He’d always thought of Sheridan as this skinny kid, but right now Sheridan’s hands, his mouth, his body, was clearly that of a man, the same size as him, and he felt so good. Sheridan pressed against him, pressed Brendan down, spread himself over Brendan. Brendan sighed while Sheridan sucked on his throat.
‘ “You’re so fucking beautiful,” Sheridan murmured while he unbuttoned Brendan’s shirt.
“Sheridan, what are we doing?”
Sheridan unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants and Brendan sighed as Sheridan took him in his mouth. It felt so good. He closed his thighs around Sheridan’s head feeling his mouth go all the way down Sheridan swallow him, his tongue all around him, Sheridan snaked back up and kissed him and pulled Brendan’s liquor sour mouth to his, and then Sheridan went down on him again.
“I always thought you were like a little brother,” Brendan said, his breath shallow.
“That’s really gross,” Sheridan said, while Brendan shrugged off his shirt and pulled Sheridan into his arms.
Brendan chuckled while Sheridan kissed him.
He held onto Brendan’s face while Brendan kissed him, and he pulled Brendan to the bed.
“Yes,” Brendan whispered, running his hands under Sheridan’s shirt, “it’s pretty gross. Good thing you aren’t my little brother at all.”
Those dress pants he always wore hanging at mid thigh, his shirt on the bed, Brendan gripped Sheridan’s hips and pulled him closer as he fucked him. They both shouted, jarred and surprised by the intensity of their sex. Mouth open, eyes closed, Sheridan held onto the backboard and now and again, called out of the deep place, he opened his eyes to see if anyone was coming back to the house. The bed groaned under them as Brendan, face approaching his throat, cheek touching his, pushed him into him harder and then, with a surprised groan his body jerking violently, he moved away, holding Sheridan’s hips, almost unable to keep his balance as, still in him, still fucking, he came.
“Thank you, Sheridan,” Brendan whispered into Sheridan’s ears as he held him close.
“Uh… yeah,” Sheridan murmured, not knowing what else to say, treasuring Brendan’s body, his arms, the memory of Brendan inside of him.
“I haven’t been with someone… I haven’t felt… loved… like a man in a while.” He kissed Sheridan’s shoulder. “Thank you so much. I hope you don’t hold it against me in the morning.”
Sheridan turned around with a slight grunt and looked into Brendan’s eyes, his nose touching Brendan’s.
“I feel exactly the same way and I needed the exact same thing from you. I love you, Brendan. It wouldn’t be the same if I didn’t love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Like a brother? Incestuously.”
“Don’t be gross,” Brendan pulled him close, smiling. “I love you like a Sheridan.”
Exhausted, they gradually shrugged out of all of their clothing until they lay naked, sprawled together on the bed, and passed into sleep.
